Projector Melt

underground rap, sample-heavy rap, pop punk, horrorcore

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Laying’ low like Duane in Basket Case — stealth and twitchy,
Spit sicker than Society — raw and sticky.
Elvira in the back row, cleavage and class,
Machetes swinging like Hodder, no questions axed.

I’m the Toxic Avenger mop-swingin’ through your lobby,
Ankles split like Audition, now you beggin’ for the copy.
This ain’t Hollywood heaven, this is VHS hell,
Ash mistakingly reading Necronomicon spells.

[harpsichord and low bass plays during hook]

[Hook]
Lights flicker, reels burn, let the scenery drip,
Grindhouse, B-movies and a sci-fi flicks. .
Recitin’ the Mutant oath at the drive-in pit
Like the Grindhouse scene? Hey, that’s my shit!
Projector melt — scream queens, red vapor trails,
Practical effects and Savini’s detail. 
I like dat flick you find in an Goodwill bin,
With a label half‑peeled and the terror within.

[Verse 2]
Yo, I’m brain damaged — like Aylmer with a twist,
Latched tight to the stem while my brain is playin’ tricks.
I watch Henry paint walls like a Jackson Pollock,
Quotin, Freddy Krueger, sippin’ whisky & tonic.

You like B-movies? Jump on in the acid bath
Coming out looking like the drunks from Street Trash.
My dojo’s a back lot, my belt made of reels,
Tourist Traps snap minds and mannequins squeal.

I reach out like the Blob , I expand and consume,
Like Logan’s Run — better shine, youth ends soon.
Think you could handle these movies? I bet you you can’t.
You’ll have the face on the last frame of Sleepaway camp!

[harpsichord and low bass plays during hook]

[Hook]
Lights flicker, reels burn, let the scenery drip,
Grindhouse, B-movies and a sci-fi flicks. .
Recitin’ the Mutant oath at the drive-in pit
Like the Grindhouse scene? Hey, that’s my shit!
Projector melt — scream queens, red vapor trails,
Practical effects and Savini’s detail. 
I like dat flick you find in a Goodwill bin,
With a label half‑peeled and the terror within.

[Bridge]
Joe Bob in the lawn chair droppin’ drive-in lore,
 Slicin’ like Leatherface with the metaphors. 
Tammy and the T-Rex — brains in jars,
Reggie from Phantasm, crashin’ muscle cars.

Call me Re‑Animator — Herbert with the glowing syringe,
“M.P.A.A’.s most hated” are the movies I binge. 
Hungry? Have some soilent bars that I’m spittin,
More disturbing than anything Kaufman’s ever written

Chop scenes like Fulci, cut quicker than logic,
Make a beat outta screams, turn static symphonic.
Shocking like Belial in a hotel drawer,
Rhymes leave bodies on a butcher’s floor.

[Outro - Shouted like a B-movie Narrator]
“This summer… one man… one life… and a whole fuckin’ vault of VHS terror!”
THE GRIND HOUSE NEVER CLOSES
AND THE DRIVE IN WILL NEVER DIE!

[vinyl scratching]
[creepy sounds]
The end…or is it ?!
[end]

2943/7500

[Verse 1] Yo,-I kick it like Bruce with sinister leanings, Spark it up and drop knowledge like Svengoolie’s screenings. Bringing chaos like the puzzle box The Priest kept. Leave them bloody mess like Frank saying [low voice] “Jesus wept...” Laying’ low like Duane in Basket Case — stealth and twitchy, Spit sicker than Society — raw and sticky. Elvira in the back row, cleavage and class, Machetes swinging like Hodder, no questions axed. I’m the Toxic Avenger mop-swingin’ through your lobby, Ankles split like Audition, now you beggin’ for the copy. This ain’t Hollywood heaven, this is VHS hell, Ash mistakingly reading Necronomicon spells. [harpsichord and low bass plays during hook] [Hook] Lights flicker, reels burn, let the scenery drip, Grindhouse, B-movies and a sci-fi flicks. . Recitin’ the Mutant oath at the drive-in pit Like the Grindhouse scene? Hey, that’s my shit! Projector melt — scream queens, red vapor trails, Practical effects and Savini’s detail. I like dat flick you find in an Goodwill bin, With a label half‑peeled and the terror within. [Verse 2] Yo, I’m brain damaged — like Aylmer with a twist, Latched tight to the stem while my brain is playin’ tricks. I watch Henry paint walls like a Jackson Pollock, Quotin, Freddy Krueger, sippin’ whisky & tonic. You like B-movies? Jump on in the acid bath Coming out looking like the drunks from Street Trash. My dojo’s a back lot, my belt made of reels, Tourist Traps snap minds and mannequins squeal. I reach out like the Blob , I expand and consume, Like Logan’s Run — better shine, youth ends soon. Think you could handle these movies? I bet you you can’t. You’ll have the face on the last frame of Sleepaway camp! [harpsichord and low bass plays during hook] [Hook] Lights flicker, reels burn, let the scenery drip, Grindhouse, B-movies and a sci-fi flicks. . Recitin’ the Mutant oath at the drive-in pit Like the Grindhouse scene? Hey, that’s my shit! Projector melt — scream queens, red vapor trails, Practical effects and Savini’s detail. I like dat flick you find in a Goodwill bin, With a label half‑peeled and the terror within. [Bridge] Joe Bob in the lawn chair droppin’ drive-in lore, Slicin’ like Leatherface with the metaphors. Tammy and the T-Rex — brains in jars, Reggie from Phantasm, crashin’ muscle cars. Call me Re‑Animator — Herbert with the glowing syringe, “M.P.A.A’.s most hated” are the movies I binge. Hungry? Have some soilent bars that I’m spittin, More disturbing than anything Kaufman’s ever written Chop scenes like Fulci, cut quicker than logic, Make a beat outta screams, turn static symphonic. Shocking like Belial in a hotel drawer, Rhymes leave bodies on a butcher’s floor. [Outro - Shouted like a B-movie Narrator] “This summer… one man… one life… and a whole fuckin’ vault of VHS terror!” THE GRIND HOUSE NEVER CLOSES AND THE DRIVE IN WILL NEVER DIE! [vinyl scratching] [creepy sounds] The end…or is it ?! [end]

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